CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS:

Kaskan
Thick wisps of ebony fall in half-hazard lengths to shadow rugged features, over-long layers typically in disarray as they feather pale blue eyes, flare about his ears and tickle the nape of his neck. Full lips precede a square-ish jaw, which often bears a dusky shadow of its own. Scars from too many fights mar what would be a handsome visage, most notably one that splices across his left brow stopping just short of his eye. A slight hitch ends his left ear in an oddly curved shape, though it's usually hidden beneath his hair. Darkly intense, his bearing is defensive and watchful, wiry muscles having filled out to create a solid, sturdy frame. Not overly tall, he is a grounded, immovable rock - just as thickly guarded on the inside as he is thickly muscled on the outside - a deceptive impression that suits him well for the panther quick grace that's displayed when he's on the move. —19 turns

Rio
Large eyes so dark that they are nearly void of any chromatic hue, stare from over a pale ivory veil that shrouds this woman's features, loops around her face and is secured somehow within folds of itself. Her hair, only partially covered, perhaps so that the veil does not look like a bandit's mask, is rich near-black brown. Rio has a fine-boned build, not quite five feet, with delicate hands and nimble fingers, narrow wrists and a small waist — other details are obscured by slightly overlarge, earth-toned clothes: A tan shirt hanging over grey pants which are themselves tucked into black boots. Rio has workman's calluses, and on her right forearm, she wears a brown cloth vanbrace held in posiition with a thumb-loop to her right hand. Rio wears a Eastern Weyr Weyrling's knot. —19 turns

ROOM DESCRIPTION:

Late morning finds the Bollian guard searching the storage cavern, a few random items creating a growing pile on the floor. So far an odd assortment is gathered giving little clue as to his purpose. A frying pan. A bedroll. Several jars without labels. Carrying a glowbasket he fumbles with a chest sitting in a shadowed corner, grumbling as the lock resists his efforts.

LOG:

There's more and less public ways to get to the baths, and Rio's had it with the questions she's been having to field. While she's being cast as the Bad Weyrling, she might as well get some credit for it. So she's padding along from one of the back tunnels she, as glowmaster, knew all too well, toward the baths. Weary. Nay, really, Rio's exhausted and her temper is short. She carries a bag and is making good time, until a couple drudges pushing a cart fully block the passageway. So Rio pauses, shoving a shoulder up against the wall and watches. Waits. Hurry -up- already.

Kaskan looks up at the sound of voices and the creaking of wood. A frown creases his brow, shadows reflecting the darkness of his mood. Spying the cart just outside the supply room entrance he stands and heads in that direction, assuming that they're headed for his room. If he helps them get it inside perhaps they'll know if there are keys around for that chest he can't open. With that intention he steps into the hallway, projecting an amiable tone that he's by no means feeling, and offers, "You need some help with that?"

"Sure, sure, sir. Haul this part in, willya? Weyrwoman." The drudge is at the angle that he can see Rio, and his partner nods to Kaskan, and heaves his own frame, to try to force the cart to manuver without having to cajole stiff wheels to turn on an aging swivel system.

Rio's attention doesn't turn from Kaskan, but she'll incline her head to the greeting. It's civil.

Shock drops Kaskan's feigned facade at sight of Rio standing beyond the cart, his eyes widening to surround sky blue in a cloud of white. If it wasn't for one of the drudges addressing her he'd think she was imaginary, drafted from the ongoing thoughts that have filled his mind since the day before. Concern flickers across his expression before he gets it back under control, aware of two pairs of watchful eyes. Rugged features smooth with that helpful expression again though the force of it is greatly shadowed by hints of other emotions just below the surface. Forcibly pulling himself from the dark pools of her eyes he nods to the drudge who answered him and steps forward to do as asked. Getting a sufficient grip he waits for the other two to brace as well, then heaves in unison to get the cart around the sharp corner. Even as wiry muscles tighten and lean frame anchors to pull, his eyes seek out Rio's again, distraction plain in his regard. Don't go, his look silently asks.

Rio is rooted to the spot.

And the drudges are only too happy for the assistance, the verbose one thanking Kaskan once more, as he turns and lends his full considerable weight to once more accruing some velocity for the old cart. His partner steps forward, to serve as the steering, and the cart begins to rattle down the dark corridor.

Rio draws in a breath, lets it out and swallows, then tries again, though footsteps that echo down the hallway catch her attention for a flickering moment. "Kaskan. Are you alright? I heard you were injured. I'm sorry. I—" No excuse. She should have known the queen was coming. "I wasn't paying attention."

Kaskan grinds his teeth to keep from groaning at the weight of the cart, feeling the heat of Rio's watching gaze. Hard living followed by militaristic training has kept his wiry frame strong with solid muscle, intense practice with his favored weapon, the staff, adding a confident ease to his movements. Applying his physical advantage to best show off for her he keeps his expression amiably cheerful despite the effort involved. Once the cart is well within the storage cavern he stands aright, dusting his hands as if he barely lifted a finger. Leaving the drudges to unload he moves back to Rio, keeping the pair in perphial vision. He still wants to ask for that key.

Leaning a shoulder on the wall he stands close enough to the weyrling that their voices won't carry overly much, hooking one ankle over the other. "I'm fine," he says with a dismissive sqwunch of his nose. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry she was upset but I'm not sorry for why." Lips curling with a wry little twist he looks her over intently, focusing on her eyes. One hand rises to brush her chin with the back of curled fingers. Her veil is in the way but he doesn't care. "I wasn't paying much attention either. Are /you/ ok?"

That brush of fingers over her chin has Rio trembling just lightly. He might detect this. It's not visible. Her eyes are clear, sober. Some darkening of the skin under them suggests that sleep has not come easily, or enough, of late. "Yes." She'll nod. "Yes, I'm alright, Kaskan. She.. Isn't usually like that, actually." Rio's eyes tilt up at him and her murmur comes with something of a lilt: "She's usually… Aloof with other people. Or polite. I don't think you should feel exactly honored…" Maybe she's making a joke…? "But you are certainly special."

The void is not complete, with the shuffling of the gents unloading the cart onto shelves in a somewhat organized manner. One fellow consults a plan and points, and the other man picks up sacks — perhaps the right ones — and places those on the shelves.

"You're… Ah…. Looking for something? I was…" She has that bag, "Bath. Didn't get clean last night, really. Didn't think I should leave the barracks with her in such a fine fettle."

Kaskan lets his hand drift away slowly, reluctant to give up the touch of her skin even through a veil. But they aren't alone. Hitching his thumb in a pocket to occupy his hands he continues to watch her closely. Was that a flicker in her expression? He can't read her body language nearly as well with the loose style of her chosen attire but that doesn't stop him from trying. His own features take on a thoughful cast, dark brows slanted with doubt at her explanation. A soft snort follows, his tone still low but fervent. "Honored? Is that what you call it? It felt like my head had been ripped off and handed to me on a plate of coals!" Lips twist further with a shade of chagrin, taking any sense of accusation out of his words. His heart does a little skip-jump that he swallows to cover… he's /special/.

Glancing over his shoulder he gives his chin a jerk, tossing those ever-drifting layers out of his view. Blue gaze turning back to her he nods. "Taking Jhorn on a camping trip. We should've left this morning but I… got a late start." Truthfully he'd rather not go now that things have taken a new turn with Rio, but the boy is way too excited to let him off the hook. Delaying will only last so long. "Just trying to dig up some last supplies." Mention of the bath puts a light in his keen regard, his thoughts leaping in directions that reflect all too plain on his face. "The bath, huh?"

"I'm sorry." She is, earnestly, and shoves off from the wall to step out of the way of the nearest glow, and examine Kaskan much closer. "I know what it's like. It was … Crazy, the first time she ran into me. I'm sorry. She's jealous, Kaskan." Rio knows she's said that, but it bears repeating.

At the explanation, Rio allows herself to breathe, once she recognizes that the packs were for a /temporary/ absence. "Oh. Well. Bring glows. There's always a few extras, and stop by the cavern and get fresh ones." They smell worse, but work better.

At his expression, Rio's brow quirks up. -That- is visible. "Ah. Yes. I… You have my veil? All oily. It gets rancid and the water at the barracks is mostly for washing dragons and … Thought I'd clean up. Yes." Truth told, Rio seems to haunt the baths on the absurdly 'off' hours.

Kaskan tilts his head and leans slightly toward her at that apology, brows knitting with a frown. "Don't apologize, Ro. It wasn't your fault. Not like you could stop her." He shakes his head lightly, a shudder of chagrin folding his folders briefly. "I doubt what she hit you with was the same. Honestly I don't know how you stand it - having someone in your head like that." Not wanting her to worry he draws a smile, refering to her jest by the runners the day before: "But don't worry. I'll live."

Glows. Right. He adds that suggestion to his mental checklist. At mention of the veil he looks away, dark lashes feathering a downward glance momentarily. Is that… embarrassment? His lips close as if holding something in - a lift at one corner hinting that it might be a smile. "Your veil? Um…." He shifts the weight of his shoulder against the wall and one hand rises to sift fingers through ebon layers. "Did you want that back?"

She pauses for a moment, before murmuring, "Well. Actually. As her lifemate and the human version of the partnership… I -am- supposed to be able to stop her from something like that. I was…" Hmmmm. "Distracted." That must .might. be a flirt. Rio's pupils, in the dim caverns, have eaten any hope of chromatic color within her regard, which is not spared for drudges or glows. She watches Kaskan. "My veil. I have others, if you wanted to wear one, Kaskan."

Definitely a flirt.

"But if you're keeping that one as a …Remembrance of me… It's not… Well. I don't -always- go around stinking of sweat and dragon oil. Just…Lots of the time." There is truth there. "What happened to it?"

Those eyes. So dark. So rich. Like deep, warm pools that he could get blissfully lost in and never want to find his way out. Windows to the lively mind and charmed heart that cast their spell on him all those… those… those… Bugger! Talk about being distracted! Kaskan tears his attention away with visible effort, turning his chin to glance over his shoulder at the drudges for a moment. When he looks back the controled and collected demeanor is back - at least momentarily. Her teasing rescues his sinking pride as he plays along, raising a hand to trace his shadowed jaw to either side of his chin. Pursing his lips thoughtfully he looks to her fully again, humor deepening crinkles around his eyes. "You think I'd look good in one?

Was there another question in there? He'll not admit to it if he can manage.

Rio sidelongs her first glance to the two drudges, before she steps forward, well into Kaskan's personal space. Mocha-black gaze turns back on him and she'll raise a hand to follow the line of the scar near his left eye, with her vanbraced arm. A touch, a touch ever-so-light, as her voice drops, "It would highlight your scars, instead of hide them." He'd know — /know/ — she smiles behind that veil, the way that her head cants and her eyes crinkle. Her eyes follow her fingers, before they flick to his eyes and stare into them, dark into light, "What is it, that you want people to remember about you, Kaskan? What do you want to highlight? The scars…? Or," her fingers will then follow half the trace his had painted, "Or your finer features?"

Later in the dead of night, while Kaskan lies trying to fall asleep on his lone cot, mental review will flail with him one resounding question: what is it about this woman that totally turns his spine of hardened metal into a flimsy noodle? What?! The moment she steps into his space, so close that he can see the individual strands of her hair that escape the veils and smell the mingling scents that mark her as woman and weyrling, he is helplessly lost. He stays frozen at first, as her hand lights a fiery trail along his scar. Never has he felt it's shape so acutely. Her smile is not missed in the least, echoed with a white-toothed widening of his own. Try as he might, the cool aloofness of his facade can't resist the sinuous sway of her attire as she moves nor the feather brush of her fingers dropping to the dusky covering of his jaw. His own hand slowly lowers - but not to return to his pocket, oh no! - not with her standing so close and drawing him with a sweet, siren's lure. His hand brushes her side beneath that raised arm and stops at the curve of her hip, there to linger. "What 'finer features' would you suggest?" he asks in a tone both husky with emotion and thick with amusement.

That he's still lighthearted keeps her there, in this I-can-touch-you-but-you-can't-touch-me game. That return sensation of his fingers along her ribcage, easily felt through thin material, sends a shudder through her, that hitches her breath in her throat. "I only know the finer features I remember. I…Wonder… What finer features you have developed," Rio draws her attention and finger back to the scar, perhaps in a bid to release herself from his gaze, "Since I had… Left, Kaskan."

Her heart pounds and she is cast back through their shared history, to another scene, wherein she'd ran into this man in another supply caverns. And then, she dared suggest in a hurried hissed whisper, another meeting place. To meet. A rock, near a stream, under the bower of heavy branches had been silent witness to the first kiss. Rio remembers that. Swallows.

"Who are you now?" The question may not only be to him, but suddenly to herself, as well. She'd been so long able to shove off and deny all those sweet memories. But he, the central figure in so many of her young woman's fancies, and now still a vital, witty, wholly attractive man. "There are tunnels, under the glowtender's caverns, Kaskan." Rio's breath moves the veil, "If I give Ryan, one of the glowtenders, a map… Would you meet me there? — He'd show up to the glowtending caverns about a candlemark past sundown." She dares ask.

And she is afraid. Rio's swallow is audible, as she steps back, swiftly, "Or are you leaving today?"

Kaskan watches her with baited breath, as if the delicacy of the moment might shatter at any second. Her face is so close. He can well imagine the plains of her features beneath that covering veil. Temptation hovers with nearly painful intensity along his nerves, his lips aching to cover hers again and fingers longing to find other curves hidden by those flowing clothes. Creases shadow his brow beneath her fingers as she mentions leaving him. That is a memory that cuts deep. Turning his head toward her hand he places a light kiss on the inside of her wrist. "You've never seen my finest feature," he quips with a roguish grin and smoldering look deep with promises never fullfilled.

The silence lasts only a moment but Turns are peeled back by their mutual memories, the slightest turn of phrase or even manner of a setting sending their thoughts along the same track. The storage cavern and secret plans, as well the anticipation and sweet bliss that followed. In his distraction that day he'd cut the stems too short on half dozen special roses meant for the Lord's Lady and nearly missed the stream-side meeting because of the reprecussions but nothing could have kept him from reaching Rio that eve.

Dark lashes flutter at her question, feathering his pale blue gaze with surprise. Her meaning is clear enough. But it's the one thing he most dreads telling her. His heart sinks at the thought of losing their intimate moment to the disgust and reproach she's sure to feel. Emotions still running high from those heated memories he doesn't respond and in the next moment she spares him from having to do so. His lips part upon hearing what she suggests and breath is stolen by the stopping of his heart. Light blue eyes bore into hers with fervent intensity, asking much but saying nothing. Listening. Nodding. Then, barely a whisper, "Of course!" As she steps back he straightens, his hand that had been at her side hanging in the air. "No, no. I mean, we were supposed to…. but, no. It can wait." A stripling of fear creases his spine that she will change her mind if she doubts him. Not caring if the drudges see now, he closes the gap she created and steps into her personal space. Tucking a finger under her chin he lifts it gently till he can look into her eyes, his conviction thick in his firm, calm tone. "Nothing will keep me away, Ro. I'll be there."

Dammit! Timing just bites.

When they were Candidates, they were encouraged to have sex. The Weyr did not want people freaking about about sexuality, or issues with sexuality, during later flights of their riders. And Rocio had entirely excluded herself from that part of her Candidacy. No desire. No willingness — nay, an absolute fear of it. When she Impressed a female dragon, Rio had a long dark think about future events… And decided that when her gold went proddy, she'd lose the knife.

Never, before, had there been a temptation. Neythan is her friend. Some of the other riders, she found charming. Not a one, did she have any desire to take to her bed. The wall of fear had effectively trumped any hint of desire.

But… This is Kaskan. Blue eyes, and rogue features, and taller than she remembered, and -built- and his every attention is flatteringly…On her. His finger under her chin, and his gaze boring into hers. That he, on the spur of hte moment, changes his plans…

"I can wait, Kaskan. I am…Here for the long term." She sways, leans toward him. Takes a step in. Weyrlings are allowed to kiss. To hold hands. Her hands come up to cover his, lightly. "If your charge expects you to go…Now…Then you should not disappoint. When you get back…Send message to me…" Her breath drops, conpsiratorily, "And we can try to meet. Underground, she cannot …" Eovarijath won't be able to completely shatter the situation.

"But as a Weyrling, I have restrictions on me. And …" She considers, "As formally Rocio…. I am… Afraid. You are…"

Considerably…

"More … Forthright," Rio murmurs, as she hears the cart begin to turn back and rumble lightly through the storage cavern, toward their position, "Than I remembered." Had he been this forward, her pregnancy and disgrace may well have eliminated any need for her marriage promise to Will.

There's an argument for premarital sex.

"Kaskan." Just his name, as if she seems to enjoy saying it, while looking at him. "I am for the baths. When you tell me you have returned, I will give a map to you, or to Ryan. And…Will meet you."

Reluctance in every line, every motion, Rio steps back and toward the baths, touching his hand that had been on her chin, before she catches the falling towel, back to her shoulder. "Say 'yes'."

Despite his intentions of cautious reservation for her sake, Kaskan can't resist when she leans into the small space he had left between them. One hand slips around her waist, arm circling her small frame lightly. The fingers beneath her chin spread to spill along her jaw, again the touch gentle but unmistakably wanting - oh, so wanting.

But then she counters. No! Indecision makes him frown, lips flattening into a straight line as she takes the part of patience. She's right, of course, but that doesn't make it any easier. He would bare a lot more than Jhorn's Blooded attitude to have uninterupted time alone with this woman. Though he tries not to show it, an internal battle wages just below the surface of his expression, leaking hints in crease and shadow, flicker and hue.

"Restrictions?" he echoes, surprised, then frowns anew at her wording that follows. His hand presses slightly against the base of her spine to draw her against him, concern thickening his tone. "Ro… don't ever be afraid of me." His thumb strokes her chin. "You know I'll never hurt you." The sinking feeling of earlier returns to coil in his stomach. 'Forthright', she said. What an understatement. If she knew exactly why he had changed from the quiet, reserved boy of old she'd shun him for sure. Especially after what he's heard of her own reclusiveness. Shoving those thoughts aside he resolves to take what enjoyment he can from the moment, not wanting to waste a single precious second with her this close.

When she reiterates the revised plan he drops his chin and his gaze slips to the side. Then she's stepping back and he lets her go, arms slowly falling to his sides. That last brush of her hand on his brings his eyes to fix on hers again, grim determination set in hues of blue. His voice is husky silk over a tightly controlled tone of steel, "/Yes/."

Yes. Yes. Yes. A hundred times yes!

This is going to be a /long/ two day camping trip.

To be sure, there's an intake of breath, and a tremor that might be desire, and might be fear, just in time for Kaskan's entreaty that Rio should not fear him.

Maybe she does. Or maybe it's a reminder of the forbidden times before.

That step back might resemble a recoil. "I know." She knows. On an academic level. What Will did to her…

But she'll look up at him from that distance, and stroke fingers lightly over the back of his hand, with a chiding tease of a tone, "No. Say '-yes!-'. Like you're happy, Kaskan." Another step back, though. She's ready to flee, and unconsciously flicks another look toward the oncoming drudges and their cart. "Yes!"

Kaskan smiles to that, shoving aside the worry and anxiety to let her see the eager anticipation. "YES!" he repeats loudly, leaning and flicking a hand at her retreating form. His deeper voice echoes off the rock walls but he watches her till she's gone from view, not caring who sees. He has a lot to think about over the next two days.

With a resigned sigh he turns just as the cart and drudges approach from behind. Turning he pulls that amiable smile of earlier back into place, trying for charm to wheedle his wants from the pair. "So, would either of you know where I might find a key to a locked chest back there?"